30x300
by eveningspirit1
Summary: Part One of the series inspired by the show's episode Thirty Days. Thirty Days in thirty chapters, based on the episode, but with slightly different ending. Please R&R.
1. Day One

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Star Trek.

30x300 by -yannik-

DAY ONE

>>

Captain Janeway's voice was calm. Too calm if Tom could tell, almost as if she was struggling to hold her emotions at bay. But he wasn't sure he knew her anymore. Maybe she didn't really feel anything?

After she had finished, he turned around. There wasn't anything to add. Chomsky and Pierce wanted to grab his arms, and he jerked away, almost instinctively.

They let go.

As they marched down the corridor, he noticed B'Elanna. She was standing there with someone, but he didn't register who that was. He only saw her. Not that he looked. Oh, he wanted! He wanted to look at her, to grab her, to ask her to… think about him. Remember him. So melodramatic. But he wasn't going to see her for thirty days!

Thirty days…

He couldn't understand how it all happened.

>>

Chomsky and Pierce led him to the brig and stayed outside. As he stepped in, the force field shimmered. He turned to look at them. Chomsky left, Pierce stayed behind, to watch him.

For a long while they both stood – the prisoner inside the cell, the guard outside of it. They watched each other. Tom didn't really know either of the guys, not having a lot to do with security teams lately.

Things were different before, when he could not socialize with Voyager's crew. He was bumping into one or the other every now and then. But that was past. Now…

Where was he now? – In the brig again. The previous time was after he assaulted Chakotay. After he acted rebellious. Oh, the act suited him well – he felt rebellious!

Then…

>>

t.b.c.

NOTE: If you feel like reviewing, don't hesitate to do so!


	2. Day Two

30x300 by -yannik-

DAY TWO

>>

He didn't expect to fall asleep easily, but he woke up in the morning – quite surprised. The last few days must have made him tired after all.

"Good morning" he said to Ivan. One more of his guards.

Ivan didn't answer. He stood at his post at ease, not sparing even one glance at the Lieu… at the Ensign inside a brig. Solitary confinement – Tom thought bitterly. He started realising what those words meant.

He got up, and walked the cell. One-two-three-four-five-six-seven. Turn. One-two-three-four-five-six-seven. Turn. One-two-three-four-five-six-seven. Turn. One-two-three-four-five-six-seven. A square. Seven steps wide, seven steps long, seven steps…

He was hungry.

"Will I get something to eat?" Nothing. "Hey, Captain didn't sentence me to starv, did she?" Nothing.

Solitary confinement.

"Some water at least?" Nothing.

There was a sink… and a toilet… behind a curtain. Some privacy, huh? There was water, so at least he could drink.

The day was slow. The slowest ever. He knew how wide the brig was, how long. He knew the exact measure of it diagonally – in feet, in small steps, in large steps… He did about five hundret push-ups. More perhaps – he stopped counting around four hundred thirty seventh. He tried standing on his hands, but it gave him headache after ten minutes, so he gave up on that.

Around midday Neelix came in.

"Neelix!" Tom exclaimed, happy to see familiar face. So Captain wasn't such a monster!

The forcefield shimmered, and Neelix stepped inside. He put the tray of food in front of Tom.

"Leola root? Neelix you've gotta be kidding me!" Tom rose his eyes, but Talaxian was allready out of the brig. The forcefield shimmered again. "Neelix!"

The cook left, without even turning back.

"Neelix…"

Solitary confinement…

>>

t.b.c.


	3. Day Three

30x300 by -yannik-

DAY THREE

>>

"Couldn't you get me something else? You know I hate leola root!"

Neelix rose his eyes this time. And then he timidly looked behind his back, at the guard.

"But it's nutritious" he answer barely above a whisper. "It has proteins, sugars…"

"Yeah, yeah. I'll eat it, I don't have much choice, do I? But you know what? I'm going crazy here! I need… something."

"If I could help…" Talaxian's honest support was comforting, but the man eyed the guard again. Tom doubted the morale officer felt morale enough to really do something.

"Well, you could ask her if I could use some holodeck once in a while. It would ba a great relief."

"Her? The Captain?"

"Uh-uh" for some reason that word wouldn't get out of Tom's mouth. The Captain. "Or a Padd at least. Something to keep me busy. There's nothing about toys in the rules of solitary…"

"Must I remind you?" Chomsky interrupted suddenly. "No nonessential talk to the prisoner."

"Yes, yes. I'm leaving already" Neelix turned hastily, but then he hesitated, and looked back at Tom. "I'll talk to her" he whispered and left. Well, it was better than nothing.

Tom poked his fork in the stew. It was ugly, but hunger won him over, and the platter was empty soon.

What else was there to do?

Boredom. Tom sincerely hoped he had some holodeck privileges. He could be there alone, no problem. After all that was what solitary confinement was about. Being alone. Oh, he hated that! He missed his crewmates so much already…

He had to stop thinking about this!

He got up and started measuring his cell again. But he knew those dimensions! Maybe he should start walking the walls?

>>

t.b.c.


	4. Day Four

30x300 by -yannik-

DAY FOUR

>>

Tom woke up early. It was still gamma shift, and Pierce was standing at the console. Yawning.

"Bored?" Tom asked her, and she rose her eyes. She almost answered, damn it! But she remembered her orders. Tom didn't realise just how much he missed another being's touch, another being's voice.

He waited anxiously for Neelix to come and bring him his leola root. At least they could have some non-nonessential talk. Maybe Neelix would give him some good news? Please Captain, don't let me go crazy of boredom here! Please!

Could she see him? There was a comm-link with a vid-recorder in the brig. That was part of the reason why guards and Neelix obeyed their orders so strictly. They never knew when they were observed. And what kind of punishment Captain Janeway could inflict this time. Hey, she was able to surprise them all!

Neelix brought the padd, but holodeck was not allowed. It's a punishment, not a shore-leave. Yeah!

A padd. A letter maybe? Who could he write to? B'Elanna? She'd never get it, Captain would see to that. Memory of B'Elanna – longing, missing her – was painful.

Capitan herself then? What a joke that would be! Would she like it? Maybe it would be tempting his luck…

Someone from outside…

Admiral?

Tom inhaled and exhaled deeply.

Admiral.

"Hey, Dad, I'm in jail again."

Evil grin. What would he say? Does it matter? It's different now, it's for something I believed in. Do you care? Do I care? Is the price worth it?

Sitting all alone in a brig, not talking to anyone, not hearing another human's voice, not being able to fly, to go out, to look at the stars.

It's not that bad.

Perhaps…

>>

t.b.c.


	5. Day Five

30x300 by -yannik-

DAY FIVE

>>

_Noise. Smoke. Lights flashing… red. Red! RED ALLERT!_

_Head dizzy, chest hurting._

_And that overwhelming noise. And smoke. And all over again._

_Where… am I?_

_Who… am I?_

_What's… going on!_

"_Help…" moaning. Not my voice. "Help me"…_

_Too dizzy. Too dizzy…_

"_Charlie?… Tom?… Odile?"_

_To dizzy._

…_darkness…_

_>>_

Tom woke up, breathing heavily. Vaguely remembering a dream. It was something bad, but memories faded away quickly.

And he waited in the darkness until the morning, unable to sleep anymore.

Change of guards was, again, the only alteration of otherways boring day. Then Neelix brought another leola root stew. Tom only sighed now, what else could he say?

Neelix's orange gaze was full of sorrow and compassion, but he turned away and left quickly.

Tom got up. Measured his cage with long strides again. It didn't change. Didn't grow bigger. Or smaller. But it was too small. He dreamt about fields, or even holodeck. About running. And about flying. Who was at the helm right now? Culhane? Baytart? Hamilton? At the helm of his 'Voyager'. While he was stranded here.

He closed his eyes. They flew at warp 5.4 – he could tell. Warp core was humming steadily. B'Elanna saw to that for sure. Tom imagined his mate. Her soft skin, her warm, wet lips. Her sharp teeth. He missed her!

The thought of her was unsettling. What was she doing?… Right now? B'Elanna? Where are you? Are you thinking of me?

His gaze lay on the padd. There was only one thing he could do, to alter his mind from the anger that consumed him. Write a letter to his father. Think, analyze the situation that had him ending up here. How did he allow this to happen?

>>

t.b.c.


	6. Day Six

30x300 by -yannik-

DAY SIX

>>

One-two-three. Seven steps forward, seven steps back. And so on.

Chime. Neelix. Leola root. The only time to talk.

Neelix handed him the tray.

"How's B'Elanna?" Tom inquired.

Neelix looked up, looked him in the eyes. Strained, but eager. He smiled lightly.

"She's fine…"

Tom nodded in understanding, eyeing yellow-shirt. Chomsky was observing them, non-sympathetic at all. How to say that much, in so little time, so little words?

"Tell her…"

"No nonessential conversation!" the guard reminded.

Chomsky, you asshole!

Neelix nodded, still smiling. His Talaxian eyes said more than words could. He'll tell her. He'll tell her Tom asked – if nothing more.

She's fine. Tom smiled to himself in his loneliness. At least she was fine. She didn't suffer, didn't hurt, didn't… miss him. Was that what it meant? She was fine, because she… didn't care.

Tom swallowed hard. No. He had to stop thinking that way. Neelix said that, because it was the first thing he thought about. She's fine, because nothing bad happened. She's normal, as usual.

But how can she be as usual? Nothing is as usual! And if she doesn't realize that, then she doesn't really love him! She doesn't feel it's different! She has her engines all right, and it doesn't matter if he comes to her at night or not, if he eats dinner, or breakfast with her or not, if she comes to meet him at Sandrine's.

Breakfast in the Messhall. Sandrine's. Everything. How he missed all those simple things! How he wanted to sit at the table, joking at another Neelix's invention with her, with Harry. Even with Neelix himself. He didn't want to be here all alone! He needed someone!

"Chomsky, you bastard!"

No reaction. Well trained soldier.

"Bastard…"

>>

t.b.c.


	7. Day Seven

30x300 by -yannik-

DAY SEVEN

>>

"B'Elanna sends her love" Neelix said under his breath. "She wanted to come herself, but… y'know" Neelix shot a glance at Pierce. She was eyeing them coldly, but at least didn't stop the conversation yet.

"Yeah, she might end up in the adjacent brig. That would not be wise" Tom joked without a smile. "What about Harry?"

"Oh, he too keeps asking the Captain to let him visit you, but she's…"

"Heartless?"

Neelix shrugged, and started from the other end:

"He's going to succeed sooner than B'Elanna would, if you asked me. Her Klingon half is on the loose." Talaxian's eyes flashed, as he turned on the talkative mode. "I haven't seen her argue with the Captain like this in a looong while. If ever. She literally…"

"No nonessential conversation, please" Pierce finally interrupted, what was predictable.

"Yeah, no nonessential… of course…" Neelix stammered, and Tom almost felt sorry for him, seeing his eyes go dull. "Sorry, Tom, I must…" he gestured, and stumbled towards the exit.

Pierce didn't even look in Tom's direction. And he didn't feel like assaulting anyone anymore. He chewed on his meal, and then recorded some more of the story for his father. He was talking really long, wondering how much of it he'd have to erase later. But he didn't want to sleep. Dreams were disturbing, and he tried to avoid them if he might.

But eventually, in deep darkness of gamma shift, tiredness took him over, and he drifted off…

>>

"_Charlie?"_

"_Bruno?"_

"_Odile?"_

"_Anybody?"_

"_ANYBODY!"_

_Red lights flashing… like dancing… over the walls. Environmentals cleared the smoke. Noise also subsided. So there are only those wild lights left. Wild dizzy dancing lights. And headache. And painful breathing._

_It's a BAD dream!_

_>>_

t.b.c.


	8. Day Eight

30x300 by -yannik-

DAY EIGHT

>>

The padd lay on the table, waiting.

The floor of the cell was waiting too – to be measured up all over again.

The cloths were waiting for him to change them from his night stuff.

Even his beard was waiting. To be shaved.

And he was waiting.

For a better time to do it all.

Was he waiting for anything specific?he wondered. Like… the end of those thirty… No! That's too much to count! For tomorrow… No, even that is too far away… Today… What's there to wait for?

Neelix.

Tom was waiting for Neelix.

He got up, changed his outfit, shaved, and took the padd.

"Yes, dad, I'm still here. Where was I…" The story flew smoothly, memories of the ball of an open ocean in an open space were filling his mind, pictures floating before his closed eyes. He felt like being there again. And he felt no regret. Oh, maybe a small one, that it was all for nothing. Nothing changed, nothing helped.

Chime. Who's there?

Oh, that's Neelix!

Tom got up, ready to greet his best friend, the only friend he had in fact.

But…

Chomsky took the tray from the astounded cook, and told him to leave the brig. Desperate orange eyes met the terrified blue ones, and that was all the contact for the day. The guard opened the forcefield, put the tray in, and closed it again.

Solitary confinement.

No nonessential conversations.

The food was waiting for Tom to eat it, until it got completely cold, and uneatable.

But Tom only watched the walls, wondering if there was anything interesting on a wall of a brig cell. Anything to keep your mind occupied. Anything to… But the walls were dull and silent…

>>

t.b.c.


	9. Day Nine

WARNNG: Mild „mature" material in next chapters.

30x300 by -yannik-

DAY NINE

>>

„_Y'think when y'at a penal colony, y'can't be more punished, huh? Well, ya'wrong Paris! Son of Admiral, huh? Y'think y'daddy will come and help ya? Nay. He ain't here. Trouble me again and there it is, see? Dark cell. Be obedient to Dogface. Yeah, Dogface, that's my nick, haha! Scared now? Nay? Y'll be scared if y'naugty. Y'know what's in dark cell? Be naughty and y'll learn, daddy's boy. On the other hand… Maybe not dark cell. Pretty eyes you have… Pretty butt. HAHAHA! Y'scared now! I see y'scared. No fuck with me, blondie! I ain't faggot, like you! You won't have me fucking your ass! You'll get scared of that... No windows, the only way out – in the ceiling, ten feet above, slick, tight walls, dark… Y'sweating. You breathig harder. Y'scared? Not fond of tight places? Not deny, blondie. That'll get to ya, I can see that now. That'll get ya. Play no games with Dogface or else there will be dark cell…"_

_>>_

_It's dark. Walls are so close. But there is this white square high above. The entrance to the cell. There is space behind it, I must remember that. That way they threw me in here. That way I will get out. There is space out there, there is the corridor._

_The ring! Nighttime. Silence time. Darkness time. NO! Don't turn off the light! Don't… I need that white square! Don't take it away! I can't breath! I can't breath! Let me out…_

He was not claustrophobic! He's never been. What was happening? He woke up screaming, sweating, from another nightmare. Darkness, tight walls… He was not scared of tight places! He was not scared of his brig…

>>

t.b.c.


	10. Day Ten

30x300 by -yannik-

DAY TEN

>>

"I'm going crazy here!"

"Isn't that the whole idea?"

The words rang in his head repeated over and over again.

"I'm going crazy!"

"Isn't that the idea?"

How could he have been so cruel, so unhumanitary? But then – how could he not? He was just a program after all. A program with neatly written lines on sensitivity to his patients. Or other beings. To feelings. Any feelings.

Tom realized he was ranting inside his head. He really must be going crazy!

Focus, focus!

If he was to survive this, he had to try and think clearly. How much time there was, what did Doc say? "See you in twenty days"? So it wasn't thirty anymore, it was twenty. Only twenty. He'll handle. He must…

Ranting again.

Tom held his head in his hands, and desperately tried not to think at all. Clear his mind.

And then it hit him.

Culhane!

"Captain is considering him a chief conn."

Chief conn…

No, she wouldn't go that far. She wouldn't! What if she forbade him to pilot at all? What if she locked him in this ship without the possibility to see the outer space, to ever go onaway mission, to pilot the Delta Flayer again?

She could do that.

He kidnapped the Delta Flayer, and she could lock him inside Voyager forever.

She could never let him out.

He needed to get out!

Out of this cell, out of this ship, out of… Just out! Anywhere!

Calm down Tom Paris – he told himself. You're an officer. Show her, that you'll handle that. She has to see… she has to… she won't be that cruel, she won't keep you in here forever. It's just a matter of time. Twenty days…

>>

t.b.c.


	11. Day Eleven

30x300 by -yannik-

DAY ELEVEN

>>

Tom kept measuring his cage. Six steps. Six steps. And six again. It couldn't have shrunk, could it?

Think! Think, Paris! It's impossible.

He sat down. Leola root was getting cold on the platter, handed over by Ivan. Neelix was not allowed in anymore.

The only thing that kept him away from the thought of the shrinking cell was the padd, andthe letter to his father. But it was bringing back memories ofother times he was incarcerated. Of those times he disgraced his father beyond forgiveness.

Could one letter change anything?

One letter and four years. Could four years of exemplary service change those months, years, when he was a failure? Especially if they ended up in failure again.

Even if he did it for purpose…

>>

„_No! Dad, please, no..." Tom prayed, as his father was securing shutters in the windows. "I'll be good…"_

"_You'll stay here, until you learn, what you did was wrong!" Commander Paris hissed, and slammed the door to the little boy's room. Tom heard the key turning, and choked._

"_But I already know, dad" he whispered into the darkness. "I know. Please, let me out."_

_>>_

_From the darkness came voices. The sweetest voice, of the only someone who would save him._

"_Why are you doing this? He's just a boy."_

"_This boy embarrassed me in front of my superior officer!"_

"_That's not the reason to lock him up. He's scared._

"_That's why I lock him up! He has to get over his fear."_

"_That's cruel."_

"_You're a mother, that's why you think that way. But you know what? Stick to your daughters, and leave my only son to me. I'll make him worthy of the name of Paris!"_

_>>_

t.b.c.


	12. Day Twelve

30x300 by -yannik-

DAY TVELWE

>>

"This planet was beautiful. You wouldn't believe… A ball of water… I know I've said that before. Yes, so you think that an ocean is nothing when compared to a space, and in some way I'd agree, but… This was a miracle, a marvel. You would have loved it… I loved it."

Tom stopped the recording. The miracle was lost now. In five years it will be nothing more than a memory. Some memories were good…

>>

_Red alert…_

"_Help…" weak moaning penetrated his oblivion and woke him up._

"_What?… Where?"_

"_Help… hurts…"_

"_Bruno? Charlie?"_

"_Who's that?"_

"_Tom."_

"_Wha… happnt?"_

_Tom turned on his side and tried to get up. The aching in his chest was dimming his thoughts, blurring his sight, but he needed to get there. There was someone beside him!_

"_Bruno!"_

_The big man was laying pinned under some debris that Tom couldn't recognize. Next to him, there lay long blonde hair, mingled with dried blood. He didn't see her face, he didn't even want to._

"_Hurts…"_

"_Bruno…"_

_There was a pool of blood slowly forming under the debris, to the side of his friend_

"_What happened?"_

_Tom looked around. He vaguely remembered the descend towards the moon's atmosphere. The trajectory was too high, but he was sure he would make it! They bounced like a ball and then… He must have lost control, consciousness… _

_And now…_

"_Get us out…"_

"_How?"_

"_I don't know! I don't care! Just GET US OUT!"_

_Bruno started coughing up blood. Wheezing. But he continued to look at Tom with those wide, frightened eyes. The eyes that kept repeating the last phrase: "get us out". The eyes that kept staring long after the wheezing stopped. With this everlasting gaze. Haunting gaze…_

_>>_

t.b.c


	13. Day Thirteen

30x300 by -yannik-

DAY THIRTEEN

>>

Why bother?

Why do anything at all?

The letter? What's the use? Thousands of light years away from Earth, decades of travel away. He'll never get it. He'll die before he gets it. He wouldn't want to read it anyway.

Sleep, food, sleep… No, no sleep. No more. The dreams… Nightmares. He couldn't place them at first, but as they continued, he realized what they were about.

And he wished he had never slept again.

It was tough though. The lights dimmed for the night, the guard standing mutely at his post. Silence. Soft murmur of engines. And tiredness. It all called for him to fall asleep, but he managed to turn it down so far. He wondered how late it was, but wasn't eager enough to check the time.

Whatever. The morning will come eventually. And with it more food, that he couldn't swallow anymore. Not even because of it lacking any taste at all, more because he just wasn't hungry. Why feed the body that's useless? That can only lay on this bunk and… wait. Oh, he could do the push-ups, the knee-bendings, the bends of all kind. He could… But what for? He could count steps measuring his cage, but what for? To find out it shrunk again? No, it wasn't shrinking – he reminded himself. It wasn't. If it was, Captain would send someone to mend it. She would. She wasn't that cruel to leave him here all alone, to get smashed by the collapsing walls. She wouldn't do that. But then – why did she let the cell shrink so much already? What did she want to achieve? Did she want to frighten him? Test his faith in her? She should've done something by now…

>>

t.b.c.


	14. Day Fourteen

30x300 by -yannik-

DAY FOURTEEN

>>

"_But what if it crushes us?"_

"_It won't!"_

"_But what if…"_

_The three men hovering above the boy laughed, and the Commander's face was just turning more and more purple._

"_Just get in, Tom!"_

"_But I saw that holonovel…"_

"_Oh, alright Owen, you can let your kid climb up the Jeffrie's Tubes" the men laughed again. "If he's scared of the turbolift. Bwahahaha!" the laughter stifled all sounds, even the voice of the Commander, bending to the boy._

_The Commander, I must remember, the boy thought. That was the condition under which his dad… Under which the Commander let him have a tour of the _Valiant_. The ship he just started serving on. As the First Officer. Tom was so proud of the Commander. One of the large men was his Captain, but Tom couldn't tell which one._

"… _just holonovel. Do you understand?"_

_Tom stared into his dad's bright blue eyes, and didn't understand._

"_Yes, Commander" he stammered._

"_Whoa! What a well trained little soldier!" one of the three large men approved._

"_Now get in."_

"_But I…"_

_A hand pushed him, and he stumbled towards the entrance to the turbolift. He imagined it's door closing up upon him, and he shrieked like a mouse. He curled into a ball, that would make pushing him any further impossible. He didn't want to get in!_

"_Sorry Owen" the large man said, "but we need to get going. Stay here with your kid, and…"_

"_He'll get in. With us. Or else I'll pack him up into the shuttle, and send him out into space, and never get him back. And he knows I mean it, don't you, Tom?" the Commander said those words very slowly, accentuating each one of them._

_Yes._

_>>_

t.b.c.


	15. Day Fifteen

30x300 by -yannik-

DAY FIFTEEN

>>

No sleep, no more sleep – Tompromised himself, but the dreams just kept coming, unwanted, uninvited.

Those about the turbolifts, the sailing ships, the shuttles, the pool of Sarah Baker's parents' back in high school, the trip to Los Alamos. All of them bad, scary, or at least humiliating. Full of his father's anger, or his friends hurting. Or both. Or simply about his stupidity that didn't kill anyone. Yes, that happened too – hard to believe. Actually that's what usually happened. He only killed three people. Three of his best friends.

Only three.

More than enough.

Another of his best friends woke him up from another bad dream. Not that frightening for that matter, about his father yelling… and demoting him… No, that was Captain Janeway…

What did Harry want? To tell him how wise it would be to finally finish something in his life? Finish the letter? What for? Just for the pure fun of it? Reason as good as any other…

"I wanted to fight for it, you know. For the alien ocean I shouldn't give a damn about. But I did…"

"Did you finish that?" Chomsky asked pointing at the platter full of leola root stew.

Tom nodded, and Chomsky took the platter eyeing him suspiciously. He threw it into the recycler.

"So I cared. Plus we had the solution, only it wouldn't do for the Moneans. What was I thinking? That I really was some Captain Proton –the savior of worlds? Stupid. I've always been stupid. Stupid and reckless. That's what you always said. You made me who I am! Your constant telling me I was worthless!" Tom stopped. That was not what he wanted to say. "Erase today's recording."

He'd start again tomorrow.

>>

t.b.c.


	16. Day Sixteen

30x300 by -yannik-

DAY SIXTEEN

>>

„You're not gonna eat that, Paris?" Pierce asked, and Tom could swear there was a hint of concern in her voice. But he was too dumb now, to enjoy that.

He looked up, stared at her, comprehending the question, the emotion expressed, and the answer to it.

"No" was this answer. He was not going to eat that.

"Are you on a hunger strike?" she asked, and Tom eyed her again. Hunger what? What the hell did she want? He wasn't hungry! "Paris, answer me!" she waited a short while. "I don't want to inform the Doctor about this. But maybe I should?"

Tom shrugged. Whatever.

"You've gotta eat!" she threw the tray back on the bunk, and left.

She would have slammed that forcefield if it was slammable! Tom's laughter startled even himself. As if it was somebody else laughing. Oh, the situation was funny – imagine slamming the forcefield! – but still, it was weird to laugh.

Apparently Pierce thought the same.

"What's funny?"

"I just… imagined something."

She glanced him over, and pointed the platter again.

Food.

Tom took one spoonful, then the next one, and another. The chow swelled in his mouth. He wasn't able to force it down, no matter how hard he tried. He had to do something! With Pierce watching him like a dog, it was so hard to cheat. He dealt with the stew after what seemed like hours, but it relieved the guard from her report obligations.

He then took the padd and tried to remember what he wanted to talk about. And why it was so important to talk about it. The ocean, the diving. Behavior unbecoming an officer. He had to explain his reasons. If there were any.

>>

t.b.c.


	17. Day Seventeen

30x300 by -yannik-

DAY SEVENTEEN

>>

The nights were so long. Days were long too, but nights were worse – nights were dark. Tom couldn't sleep anymore. At first he blessed it, but as the vast hours became vast minutes, and vast minutes became vast seconds, he found it hard to endure. There wasn't much difference between night and day in the brig, but still there were those small interruptions during alpha and beta shifts. Some change of speed, food delivery. And the lights were brighter during the day. At night they diminished the illumination, and it didn't matter if it was needed or not. The prisoner had no decision about what he wanted.

But the morning always came in the end. After immeasurably long night. The alpha shift guard came in, the gamma left to rest, to his quarters, to his bed, to his companions, and leisure activities.

Andlights were brightened. And Tom could take the padd and continue his recording.

>>

"_I'm going crazy!"_

"_Isn't that the idea?"_

"_I can't breath!"_

"_Isn't that the idea?"_

_>>_

The story was flowing now, almost without interruptions. Somehow it was getting easier to tell those things,

>>

_Noise. Smoke. Lights flashing… RED ALLERT! Long blonde hair… Blood. Blood. Blood._

"_Warning! Manual hatch opening attempted. Warning! Vacuum! Warning!"_

_>>_

to explain his actions. And maybe it made sense?

>>

"_You violated the protocols that govern this crew. You caused an armed conflict… I would destroy you! I will destroy you! I can't ignore what you've done…"_

_>>_

Maybe someone would understand Tom's story? Maybe even the person it was addressed to?

>>

_She doesn't really love him! She doesn't feel it's different!_

_>>_

That was a dream. And if not, then maybe Tom could understand himself better.

>>

t.b.c.

Review please?


	18. Day Eighteen

30x300 by -yannik-

DAY EIGHTEEN

>>

Why? What was the actual cause, the actual reason for what he did? The very moment of making decision? Was it talking to B'Elanna? Was it her advice, her… support? Her misplaced support.

Tom didn't intend to blame anybody, B'Elanna the least, but he needed to figure that out. The moment that ruined his life. There were probably many moments where decisions could have been made differently. But this conversation with B'Elanna, her telling him that Captain Proton…

He remembered this conversation so vividly. He remembered her black eyes, her black hair, her skin that always seemed warmly tanned to him, even in these black-and-white surroundings. He remembered his emotions.

And now there weren't any.

He was thinking about her and felt… nothing. No regret, no sorrow, no pain. No love. Nothing. How could a couple of days of being apart wash him out of all love for her? He didn't even feel remorse over this lack of feelings. He just noted that, nothing more.

He was being observed – he realized. He looked up, and saw Chomsky outside, with a tray in his hands. But the guard wasn't opening the forcefield yet. Why?

Chomsky entered the code, and an electric flicker notified him of a permission to enter. But he took his time. And the electric flicker was there again, behind his back, once he stepped in. Tom rose to his feet, and saw Ivan at the guards station.

"What?…"

"You're going to eat that" Chomsky said, putting the platter on the bunk, and pushing Tom to seat beside it.

Tom couldn't believe that.

"Now!" Chomsky pointed, and Tom had no choice.

As he was forcing leola root down his throat, he prayed not to throw it all up.

>>

t.b.c.


	19. Day Nineteen

30x300 by -yannik-

DAY NINETEEN

>>

They were making him eat. The guard was standing there, watching him, and he had to eat. It's nutritious – Neelix had said. It has the proteins, sugars. He didn't need proteins and sugars! He needed space! He needed people! He needed to talk to someone, to tell them how angry he was, how hurting. He needed someone to understand that, and set him free! Finally set him free. He asked how much longer. How many more days there were left for him to remain there? He asked how much must he eat for them to leave him alone. He asked if they could ask the Doc for psychiatric evaluation. He asked what day it was, where they were, what was the newest gossip onboard the ship. He asked if their mothers were whores. He asked what time it was. He asked for a glass of water. He received no answer. It was okay. It was how it was supposed to be. And it was different – he wasn't alone in his cell for a moment at least, so he enjoyed that. He talked, even if they didn't. Instead of eating – he talked. And they had to react, they had to remind him to eat. But it made things longer, it made them stay inside with him longer. He was not alone – longer. But it also made the rest of the day – longer. The waiting. It was stifling. Dense, damp, strung out, constricting. Restricting. Choking. Long. Long. Long. How many more days? Choking. Stifling. Breathe! Air, I need air! Let me out, let me breathe. How much longer? Just tell me how much longer! I need to breathe… I can't breathe… Just let me out… please…

>>

t.b.c.

Review?Please...


	20. Day Twenty

30x300 by -yannik-

DAY TWENTY

>>

"_Get us out."_

"_Bruno, I'm trying!"_

"_Just get us out!"_

"_Can't you see, I'm doing what I can? It's not so easy to override those codes. Security lock, damn!" It wasn't easy. His head was humming, there were no lights, except for the constant dance of red flashes, he was loosing his breath occasionally, and Bruno's nagging was unnerving too. Besides he was not codes specialist, he was a pilot, damn it! Odile should be doing that, but she was just lying there and waiting for him to do the whole job! At least she wasn't talking._

"_Get us out!"_

"_Stop it, Bruno, you're not helping!"_

"_WARNING!"_

_The lock let go._

"_Hatch security lock broken! WARNING!"_

_Finally!_

"_Now all I need to do is pull the lever. Aaarrgh!" It wouldn't do. He was too weak. He was too damn weak! "Bruno, I need your help!"_

"_You got us in here, you must get us out! I can't ignore what you've done! You must get us out!"_

"_I must get us out!"_

"_WARNING! Hatch security lock broken! WARNING!"_

_I must pull this lever, I must get us out. Damn it, there's no air anymore! I can't breathe! I. Must. Pull. Harder! Harder! I can't breathe!_

"_WARNING. Hatch breach attempted. WARNING. Step away from the hatch. WARNING. Vacuum outside. WARNING. Step away from the hatch."_

_I can't breathe!_

"_WARNING. Airlock seal broken. WARNING. Step away from the hatch…"_

_>>_

There is no air! There is no air in that room! This room is too small, and air gets used up too quickly! I can't breathe! I need some air! Let me out! I need to breathe! I have to get out! Please, let me out, please. Please… let me… out…

>>

t.b.c.


	21. Day Twenty One

30x300 by -yannik-

DAY TWENTY ONE

>>

"Help me" he cried into the pillow to stifle the sound. Oh, he cried out loud last night, but now he didn't want to. He didn't want Chomsky, or Ivan, or whoever else was there to come in and yell at him. He could control it. He could control it now. At night he was sleeping, he was dreaming, so he had no control. He only managed to realize it was a dream, a nightmare, so he escaped. But reality was no better. Walls, loneliness, lack of air. All the same. So he cried for help, but since no one would answer, he didn't want them to hear. He pressed the harsh material into his mouth, almost choking himself, and cried.

"Ensign Paris" he heard a voice, felt a hand touching his shoulder, and bolted upright.

Pierce was staring on his tear-stained face, her mouth gaping open. Was she surprised? Did she think he was sleeping? An idiot!

"Your meal."

"Meal?" he mocked. "Meal? I'm not going to eat that meal!" he yelled. "Take it away! I don't want it! Eat it yourself!"

He rose. But he watched himself from the outside. Weird. In slow motion.

She was standing there with that tray in her hands. And he stood before her. It seemed as if he wanted to just take the tray from her, but instead his hands pushed up. And up. And the tray, the food, flew towards her face, her uniform. He pushed further. Pushed her, and she fell backwards on the floor. He sat on top of her, and started hitting.

The voice screamed "Let go of her!" And then everything went blank.

A phaser, he smiled slipping into unconsciousness. A phaser set to stunt.

>>

t.b.c.


	22. Day Twenty Two

30x300 by -yannik-

DAY TWENTY TWO

>>

They found another way. Hands in handcuffs, one guard with a phaser, the other with a spoon, hovering above him. Like a baby. He would have laughed, because it was funny.

"Open your mouth."

What if I don't?

"Open your mouth!"

And what if I don't?

"Ivan, there must be another way."

"Don't do this. You already forgot what he tried to do to you?"

"No, but… Maybe he really needs that psych evaluation, the Doc…"

Tom eyed one and then another, with a small sparkle of hope. Ivan must have noticed, because he inhaled, looked at Tom, changed his mind, exhaled, and said:

"Maybe. But maybe our reports would convince the Captain to keep him here for another thirty days? Or if he doesn't eat. Lets go and write it!"

Ivan really intended to leave the cell.

Tom stared at him terrified, and then he obediently opened his mouth. Ivan smiled wickedly, and started spoonfeeding him. As foul leola root was dropping down Tom's gullet - and he didn't find it funny any longer - he thought Captain Janeway wouldn't do that. The small part of his mind, that was still deliberate, kept repeating that it was just something Ivan contrived to frighten him.

But he couldn't take risks. After all he didn't know Captain anymore. So he swallowed. One more gulp. One more. There was not enough room inside him. He would explode! Or worse – grow so big that he wouldn't fit here anymore. That was it! The cell wasn't shrinking - he was growing. Soon he'll be too large for it. He won't fit in…

Before he knew it, all the food they packed into him was back out, all over the floor.

>>

t.b.c.


	23. Day Twenty Three

30x300 by -yannik-

DAY TWENTY THREE

>>

"_You know something, Bruno? It's actually good that you're not breathing. You'd use half of the air, and this way I have more of it. The environmentals are crashing. We'll all choke soon. If I only knew the way to open that damned hatch! See, I can't get us out, because the computer is just going crazy every time I get near. It keeps shouting warnings, and it even shocked me once. Damn it hurt." Tom looked at his burned hand. "Besides I don't even have the strength to move the lever anymore. I can't breathe. I don't know if that's the lack of air, or if there's something wrong with my lungs. When I'm thinking clearly I think it's lungs. Probably broken ribs. Did you have broken ribs too? Did it hurt to die? Damn it, I don't even know when you're dead, and when you're still talking to me!"_

"Mister Paris? Tom?"

"_Oh, there! You see? Now you're talking."_

"Ensign Paris!"

"_Hey, I'm not ensign yet, Bruno! Don't mock me alright? Isn't that enough that you pretend you died?"_

"Tom? Wake up!"

Tom woke up. Bruno wasn't there. He looked around. He wasn't on that wretched shuttle. He was in a brig on _Voyager_. But who was calling him?

"Tom?"

He looked up.

Captain!

He couldn't believe that. Captain herself was standing behind the forcefield.

"Tom, I came to talk to you…"

What for? What for, you bitch! He closed his eyes, and turned on his side, his back to her.

"Tom? Tom, please." Silence. Long moment of silence. "Alright then." Soft footsteps.

No!

No! Come back! He jumped upright, and run towards the forcefield, but she was already out the entrance.

Nooo!

>>

t.b.c.


	24. Day Twenty Four

30x300 by -yannik-

DAY TWENTY FOUR

>>

She came back.

"What do you want?" He jumped up, yelling.

Chomsky leaped up to the Captain's side, taking out his phaser. She rose her palm incalming gesture.

"Put down your weapon, Crewman. There's the forcefield."

The forcefied?

Oh, yeah, that's it! Why didn't he think sooner? He run towards her, and for a moment she must've thought he'd get through it and attack her! He actually frightened her! She backed off two steps, he saw that!

Just before his body connected with the energy field, the pain soared through his muscles, and he collapsed to the floor, screaming in agony…

>>

The next thing he saw was the Doctor's face. His scornful, smug smile.

"Feeling better, Ensign?"

"Uhrmm…"

"Don't try to talk just yet. And don't try to do it again, it might smolder the rest of the brains, you still have up there. Here's the sedative. You'll wake up tomorrow fresh and new, without any traces of your encounter with an energy field."

Tom felt cold metal touch his neck, and didn't even argue.

>>

"_Get us out."_

"_Bruno, I'm trying!"_

_No lights, except for the constant dance of red flashes._

"_Just get us out! I can't ignore what you've done! You must get us out!"_

_I must pull this lever, I must get us out. I can't breathe! _

"_WARNING. Hatch breach attempted. WARNING. Step away from the hatch. WARNING. Airlock seal broken. WARNING. Step away from the hatch…"_

_Vacuum…_

_There's no air!_

_There's the Rescue Ship, but why isn't it docking? There's the Admiral…_

"_You thought I would come back for you? You thought y'daddy will come and save ya?"_

_It's a dream! I know it's a dream!_

_Why can't I wake up?_

_>>_

t.b.c.


	25. Day Twenty Five

30x300 by -yannik-

DAY TWENTY FIVE

>>

„No. No sedatives! Please."

"You must…"

"I won't sleep. Ever again!"

"It's not for sleep."

"He's had some pretty bad nightmare at night. Chomsky couldn't wake him…"

"Crewman Pierce, please, let me work on my patient. Tom, if you don't calm down, I'll force it on you, and you really don't need that."

"Force it."

"It's not going to put you to sleep. It will only calm you down. Now will you let me? I'm asking for the last time."

Tom hesitated. And stopped resisting.

A hiss and he felt much calmer immediately. Drained of all emotions would be a better expression. He knew that feeling already, hard to imagine he felt that way, without any aids, just a few days before.

The Captain entered the brig. Ah! So that's what it was about! The Doctor left, the guard backed off, pretending invisible. She sat beside him.

"So. You're scared of me now. You need me sedated, to talk to me" he stated, before she said anything.

"Do you blame me? And believe me I'm not scared for myself, but for you."

"Oh, so now you're afraid that I might kill myself?"

"Tom…"

"You weren't afraid of that when you sentenced me to thirty days in solitary."

"I'm not going to explain my decision…"

"Oh, c'mon Kathy!"

"Now you're crossing the line."

"I'm crossing the line? Didn't you cross the line, Kathy? Didn't you…"

"Now listen to me Tom Paris. If you don't change your attitude right now, I'm going to leave that brig. None of us wants that, right? I'll stay and talk to you, but it will be like two civilized people, or not at all. Your choice."

>>

t.b.c.


	26. Day Twenty Six

30x300 by -yannik-

DAY TWENTY SIX

>>

_I want to get out. Please, let me out! The air is leaking through the broken airlock, there's nothing left to breathe. There's so little space! There are three dead bodies. Am I dead too? I should be, I killed them. No! No it wasn't my fault Bruno! It wasn't! You should have warned me that the ascend was too high._

"_But I warned you."_

"_No, you didn't! You just asked if I wasn't too daring, that was what you said! You didn't say 'change the trajectory', you didn't tell me that."_

"_You were the pilot, not me."_

"_But you should have said something!"_

"_Like what? Whatever I'd say, you'd just laugh me out, and do your job. You were the best damned pilot in the Academy! You'd handle any situation."_

"_It wasn't my fault! You won't make me feel guilty!"_

"_You won't make _me _feel guilty. I'm dead."_

"Tom?"

"_You should have said. Odile should have, Charlie…"_

"Tom!"

"_You'll answer before the court martial."_

"Tom! Tom, wake up."

"No. It wasn't me, not my fault…" 

"Tom, it's okay. Tom?"

The voice finally came through. Tom looked up, and saw those concerned blue eyes. So much like his mother's. Concerned. Caring. Carrying no consolation.

"It wasn't my fault" he muttered. His face was wet from tears.

"I know" the Captain whispered softly.

"I'm lying. It was my fault. It was!" he sobbed.

She outstretched her hand, and uneasily touched his forehead, stroked his hair. Then she sat beside him, as if unsure what to do. And he lay there, sobbing into the pillow, ashamed of himself. He sobbed like a child, unable to stop. And she sat like a mother, trying to care.

>>

t.b.c.


	27. Day Twenty Seven

30x300 by –yannik–

DAY TWENTY SEVEN

>>

He was waiting for her.

Tom realized he was getting restless, because he knew Captain Janeway would come back this day. She's been visiting every day lately, so why not today?

Why not now?

Right now!

But she made him wait. Or maybe these were his own expectations? He felt like a kid at school, longing for his lovely history teacher.

Kathryn Janeway finally entered and Tom's heart raced. Her blonde hair flowing around her cheeks, her pale lips smiling. Was she smiling? At him? Or was it only his imagination?

She dismissed the guard with a single motion of her palm. She had the power.

"Kathryn" he welcomed her, before he gave himself a chance to think.

"It's still Captain, Ensign" she stated, and he realized she was not smiling.

And then everything crumbled.

He choke, bowed, sank to his knees.

"Let me out" he cried. "Let me out now, please, I can't bear this any longer. Please, I can't, please, I beg you…"

"Tom" she was surprised, uncomfortable, but it was nothing for him.

"Please, please, please…"

"Mister Paris! Compose yourself! You're an officer!"

He looked up. The Captain touched his elbows, helped him rise. They stared in each other's eyes, and Tom thought he's thankful she didn't mention he was an officer's son. A heir of a long line of noble Starfleet officers.

"Let's sit down.

"Tom, I can't let you out now. There isn't much time left, and you can handle that. I know you can, you're strong. If I broke the rule now, you would regret that in a few weeks, when emotions subside. I'm breaking the rule already, by being here, but that's enough. You're strong. You'll handle."

"If I must..."

>>

t.b.c.


	28. Day Twenty Eight

30x300 by –yannik–

DAY TWENTY EIGHT

>>

"_Cadet Paris, compose yourself! You're going to be a Starfleet officer!"_

"_Please…"_

"_Tom" the Admiral lowered his voce, not to be overheard by the others, " you're the heir of a long line of brave, strong Starfleet officers. You're son of an Admiral. Don't shame the Paris' name! You're rescued, you're safe now."_

"_I am?"_

"_Yes."_

"_And Bruno? Odile? Charlie?"_

"_I'm sorry…" he stared, and then looked at Tom carefully. "But they must have been killed in the crash, they wouldn't… You must have known that."_

"_I talked to Bruno. I killed him."_

"_Nonsense!"_

"_He was alive! But he was breathing, and there wasn't enough air, so I had to… I… I don't know… I can't remember."_

"_You're confused. It was extremely stressing situation, I'll point it out to the investigating officers. You need psych evaluation, before they talk to you. Look at me Tom" the Admiral took his son's face in both his hands, and stared deep into his eyes. "You didn't kill anyone. Remember that. You didn't kill anyone."_

"_Yes, sir."_

_>>_

But I did. I did, and we both know that now.

Not like this, not with my bare hands, but with my false heroics. Stupid daring. I killed them, and now I'm paying. Will every punishment always be about that? Maybe that's how it should be, maybe I should live this through over and over again. Maybe every cell I get locked in should remind me about this closed space inside the shuttle, that became my friends' coffin? That's the way it's been ever since, and that's how it must be. I must bear with this. I must be strong to honor them, because they never got out.

>>

t.b.c.


	29. Day Twenty Nine

30x300 by –yannik–

DAY TWENTY NINE

>>

"Day twenty nine, Pierce."

"So?"

"Tomorrow we change the post. I just can't wait."

"Don't get so excited Chom. Tomorrow is the thirtieth day. Full thirty days will pass the day after."

>>

Tom overheard the conversation and feeling of joy immediatelly knocked down by that of dread made him nauseous. He'd lost track of time, and that was good. Even the Captain didn't mention the passing days, only that it was not long. But now, knowing it would be two more days…He promised himself he'd be strong, but he couldn't bear.

He didn't even look up, when the Captain came.

"Tom?"

He didn't answer. He wanted to, he even inhaled, but his throat was too tight, he wouldn't force words out.

"You're strong, remember that. There isn't much left…"

"How much?" he found the strength, but the words came out squeaking. Like just another plea.

She hesitated, looking at him intently.

"It's been twenty nine days." And then her smile widened in this very Kathryn Janeway way. "Just one more day. Tomorrow you're getting out."

Tom looked at her, and tried not to let her know he recognized a lie.

She was going to release him a day earlier.

Of course nobody would notice, it was confusing, wasn't it? Even guards were perplexed. But the Captain knew exactly how many days were left, and she caught it short, without losing her face. Her honor was spared. And so was his in the eyes of most of the crew. But not in the Captain's and in his own.

He wished he was strong enough to ask her to leave him in for this one more day. He should have. But he wasn't strong enough.

>>

t.b.c.


	30. Day Thirty

30x300 by –yannik–

DAY THIRTY

>>

Tom entered Captain's Ready Room.

"Please, sit down, Ensign."

But he couldn't move. The stars behind the viewport caught him up. Running free. Free at last.

"Ensign? Tom?" she repeated.

"Yes Ma'am!" he snapped out finally, and forced himself to let go of that sight.

"You made it. You served your thirty days in solitary."

"Yes Ma'am!"

"I knew you'd make it. You asked me to let you out sooner, but I knew you'd make it. I took that risk, and you proved me right with your strength and courage. I want you to know I admire that."

He knew what she meant. He wasn't strong, he wasn't brave! He wanted to shout it out in her face, but… Don't spoil the impression, Paris. She wants you to believe, she believes that. You must cling to that, there's nothing else left.

"Due to the circumstances, however" she gazed down to her monitor, to avoid his eyes, to hide emotions, "I need to temporarily reduce your position on the ship. You'll be serving gamma shift on the Bridge. Take your time to recover. Ensign Culhane will keep his duties as Chief Conn for time being. Do you have anything to add?"

Tom gritted his teeth.

"I don't need..." he stopped aprubtly. But she understood.

"Doc requests more help in Sickbay. If you're up to it."

>>

The End.

NOTE: thank you to all who read. Big Thank You to those who reviewed. Enormous THANK YOU to Terri ;). I hope you all return to read my other stories (this one continues in "After Thirty Days"). And if – by any chance – someone would read it in the future – please, review it too. Getting reviews is always a pleasure.

-yannik-


End file.
